The Wrath of the Gods
by The Pirate Lasses
Summary: Jack the monkey is a servant of the Aztec Gods. He brings Barbossa back to life three years after his death, and Barbossa wants revenge. Revenge on Jack Sparrow and Will Turner. And this time, he has the Aztec Gods on his side.
1. The Return of Barbossa

**Disclaimer:** Ugh. Disclaimers. Stupid buggers, really. They should just die and be dead. That way, I could own Jack! YAY! Unfortunately, he's not in this chapter, and he most likely won't be in the next one, they way things are going and all. Sigh.

**Author's Notes:** Oh happy days, another PotC fic! But this one's different. This one is co-authored. *GASP!* Hehe, this should be fun! Akalei and I will alternate writing throughout this whole story for the most part. As always, reviews are welcomed! I'm sure this will be confusing at first but the plot shall be slowly revealed as the story moves on.

------------------------------------------------------------------  
------------------------------------------------------------------

**The Wrath of the Gods  
****Chapter One:** The Return of Barbossa  
**Written by Courtney**

Only one person knew that the monkey had disappeared from his master's former ship, the _Black Pearl. That bloody girl, the one who had his master's precious medallion, the one who knocked him overboard. Elizabeth Swann. When none of the Black Pearl's crew, or even Barbossa, came looking for him, the monkey assumed two things: one, his master was dead, and two, the girl had forgotten about him. But that's how he wanted it to be, or rather, the Aztec Gods wanted it to be. Jack the monkey was a servant to them. Specifically to the gods Texcatlipoca, the God of Night, Death and Temptation, and Mictlantecuhtli, the God of Death and the Lord of the Underworld. Sometimes he served Mictlantecuhtli's wife and co-ruler of the Underworld, Mictecacihuatl, but not usually._

Texcatlipoca and Mictlantecuhtli took turns in commanding or possessing the demon monkey. After Barbossa was shot, Texcatlipoca ordered Jack to live on the far side of Isla de Muerta, away from the cursed treasure. The dead island had no food and little water, but Jack didn't need it. He was under the protection of the "heathen gods," as his former master so kindly put it, so Jack needed neither food nor water. After three years of nearly wasting away on Isla de Muerta, Jack received a visit from Mictlantecuhtli. The Lord of the Underworld ordered Jack to swim back to the unholy cove and take one of the medallions from the chest. He possessed the back of the monkey's mind to make sure nothing went wrong.

The monkey swam dutifully to the other side of the island and entered the cove. He made his way to the cave and entered it silently, barely breathing. The Aztec God possessing him had not been there in a long time, and it thrilled him. Jack gazed at the piles of treasure that his master's crew had plundered over the span of ten years. However, he was not interested in any of it, except for the stone chest that was on top of a mountain of golden coins, jewelry, and statues. At the bottom of the mountain was the corpse of Captain Barbossa. Amazingly, he did not look dead or rotten; on the contrary, he looked like he was merely lying there resting. Curiously, the monkey went over to the captain, just to make sure that he wasn't sleeping. He was surely dead. The monkey ignored his former master for the moment, and began hopping up the mountain. Almost instantly, he landed on the cursed chest of Cortés. He chirped softly and touched the gold with his tiny paws.

The glimmering medallions were cold, freezing almost. On the other side of the chest and through Jack's eyes, Mictlantecuhtli saw two coins with dried blood on them. He commanded the monkey telepathically to seize both of them. Jack crawled over to coins and stared at them for a moment. Then he snatched them up like lightning, jumped off the chest, and scampered under the moonlight.

He turned into a skeleton.

Both the Aztec God and the monkey screamed triumphantly.

Then, from behind him, Captain Barbossa said, "Fancy meetin' ye here, Jack."

The monkey turned around and saw his captain standing in the moonlight, a skeleton also. "Thank'ee, me faithful li'l monkey. Who knew th' curse could do sucha thing as this," continued the captain with a menacing grin, looking down at himself. He stepped out of the light for a moment and looked at his bloodstained shirt. "An' I thought he'd kill'd me." Barbossa stepped back into the moonlight and looked around the cave evilly. "Now… _where be Sparrow_?"

It was then that Mictlantecuhtli left the monkey's mind, leaving Jack to shrug stupidly. The monkey felt a presence at his left side, and looking up he saw the physical form of the Lord of the Underworld. He was a terrible sight to behold. He was a skeleton, similar to what Barbossa looked like, but his bones were paler and every few inches or so there were small droplets of blood clinging to his ghastly frame. He was clothed in an emerald green toga bordered with black trim. He wore a golden crown on his bare head. Possibly the most shocking feature about the God were his disturbing red eyes that were staring at Barbossa with more malignancy than the evil pirate himself could muster. Barbossa, in turn, was gazing at the God with a look of pure terror on his face.

"You will have your revenge on Jack Sparrow soon enough, Barbossa," Mictlantecuhtli hissed. His voice was like venom dropping from the fangs of a serpent, and both Jack and Barbossa flinched at the sound of it. "But until then, I have a little task for you." It was hard to tell whether or not he was smiling, as he had no skin to contort.

"I shall do wote'er ye ask me to, me Lord," Barbossa said, his voice full of fright and barely above a whisper.

Mictlantecuhtli's eyes became pools of bright fire and he rasped, "I know you will. Now, come. We must make haste to my kingdom. We must go to the Underworld."


	2. Tezcatlipoca and the Throne

**Disclaimer:** Guess what? We own Tezcatlipoca, Mictlantecuhtli (unfortunately), Mictecacihuatl, and Huehueteotl, even though he's not a big character. Yay! We own something! SCORE. *Cough* Ahem. Besides that, we don't own squat. Wait – we own the plot too. Haha.

**Author's Notes:** This is sort of an uneventful chapter. It hints at the plot line, but not much. We won't be seeing much of Barbossa or the Gods for a fe, chapters, so enjoy what you still have of them. Actually that's probably a good thing, because those guys' names are hard to type. I mean, just look at 'em. _You try spelling Mictecacihuatl without looking at the piece of paper you wrote it down on with the correct spelling. All I can say is, it's not easy._

Still no reviews. V_V Maybe there will be by the time Akalei reads this, edits it, and adds some crazy disclaimer to it. (Beware of her disclaimers and author's notes.) Which has been done.

------------------------------------------------------------------  
------------------------------------------------------------------

**The Wrath of the Gods  
****Chapter Two:** Tezcatlipoca and the Throne  
**Written by Courtney**

Huehueteotl was not happy. His unhappiness had begun when Cortés had killed off his people, his worshippers, which was a little more than one hundred years ago. The gods Tezcatlipoca and Mictlantecuhtli decided to curse Cortés and his people as revenge, so they gave him a stone chest full of 882 cursed coins. Why 882, Huehueteotl did not know. But, unfortunately, Cortés had figured out that the chest and its contents were damned, so he left them on a forsaken island and went back to Spain. Huehueteotl had not been pleased with the younger Gods' decision to curse the Spaniards; it would've been easier if they had sent a plague to the foreigners' ships to kill them all. The younger Gods didn't use their heads very much. Therefore, because of their oblivious stupidity, they were outraged that their revenge didn't work.

But then, thirteen years ago, pirates found the chest and they took every single piece of the cursed treasure. The captain of the pirates was a man by the name of Barbossa and his ship was the _Black Pearl_, and he himself was feared throughout the Caribbean Sea. The finding of the chest by someone renowned overjoyed the morbid gods, and they forgot about Cortés. Their curse tormented the pirates for ten years, until a certain Jack Sparrow and a young William Turner broke it. Huehueteotl was secretly happy about that, but he could never show it to the other Gods, especially Tezcatlipoca and Mictlantecuhtli. They were, again, enraged that the curse had been broken, but especially furious that those two gentlemen broke it. They stayed furious for three years straight, even if to the Gods it was but a month.

But unbeknownst to the God of Fire, during that three-year period the two Death Gods were hatching a plan to make the curse permanent, to make it affect anybody and everybody they could. Namely Jack Sparrow and Will Turner. Had Huehueteotl known this, he would have tried to prevent the plan from ever taking place. If he couldn't do that, then he would've secretly helped the two men the other Gods were after. Unfortunately, he found out too late.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Tezcatlipoca was sitting lazily on Mictlanticuhtli's throne when the Lord of the Underworld arrived in his palace. He knew it would make "Cuhtli" angry, but he didn't care. After all, he was Tezcatlipoca, God of Night, Death and Temptation, and no man – mortal or not – was going to lay a hand on him. Tezcatlipoca made sure of that. He was also flirting with Cuhtli's

beautiful wife, Mictecacihuatl, who was sitting next to him in her throne when he appeared. Cuhtli didn't deserve a wife like her, him being so grotesque, and she, she being the most beautiful woman in the Underworld, what with her long jet-black hair piled on her head in an ornate fashion with an emerald skull holding it there. He didn't deserve her perfect face, her bright green eyes. Her eyes were what made her unique; no goddess in the Aztec Pantheon had green eyes except Mictecacihuatl. She was everything Mictlantecuhtli wasn't.

"TEZCATLIPOCA!" Mictlantecuhtli shrieked with in his horrid voice as he entered the throne room. "GET OFF OF MY THRONE AND GET AWAY FROM MY WIFE!"

Tezcatlipoca sighed dramatically, winked at Mictecacihuatl, who smiled knowingly, and heaved himself off of the elegant throne that was made out of human bones. He smiled widely at the angry, ugly god and shouted, "Cuhtli! So glad to have you back! Terribly sorry about the chair. I didn't know you wouldn't want me to sit in it. Mictecacihuatl said I could while you were away." It was a lie; Mictecacihuatl had said no such thing, but she would vouch for him if asked about this. He knew she liked him better than her husband, who wouldn't? Tezcatlipoca was as handsome as Mictecacihuatl was bewitching. He, too, had jet-black hair, although it only reached about an inch below his ears, framing a handsome face.

Mictlantecuhtli glared at his wife and fellow god with his menacing red eyes. "Let this be a warning, both to you, Tezcatlipoca, and to my wife. If either of you so much as _touches_ my throne, I'll send you both to dine with Tlazolteotl." Tezcatlipoca grimaced; Tlazolteotl was the Eater of Excrement. "Do I make myself _clear_?" Mictlantecuhtli spat malevolently.

"Of course, Cuhtli!" grinned Tezcatlipoca, triumphantly hiding his contempt for the skeleton behind a smile. "Who wouldn't understand a threat such as that?" He glanced at Mictecacihuatl hastily, and she smiled and nodded at her husband. While looking at the Lord of the Underworld, Tezcatlipoca noticed Jack the demon monkey at his heels, scampering around

the Lord's feet. "Ahh," said Tezcatlipoca smoothly, "I see you've brought our little servant." He looked back up at Cuhtli's horrendous eyes and smirked at them. "Does this mean the first stage is complete?"

"See for yourself," growled Mictlantecuhtli, "and don't call me Cuhtli." He stepped aside to reveal a relatively tall man with a wide-brimmed hat and a long coat standing behind him. His hair was longer than Tezcatlipoca's, but ratty and thin; the same with his beard. This man standing cockily before him was a pirate, a pirate who had died three years ago.

Tezcatlipoca bowed theatrically. "Welcome to the Underworld, Captain Barbossa," he said, smoothly as a snake's underbelly. "There is much to explain to you over the next few days, so we might as well get started now."


	3. The Curse's Revelation

**Disclaimer:** Yes! I own Will and Jack and Elizabeth and Barbossa and even the _Black Pearl! (But only in my mind). It felt so good to say that. Remorsefully, I will only ever own Pirates of the Caribbean – and Will – in my dreams. Good night._

**Author's Notes:** Thank you so much for our **ten fantastic reviews! You guys honestly have now idea how much reviews mean to us. Six reviews in two days – not that bad, really. Keep them coming! I'm not exactly sure how this fic is going to turn out since Courtney knows more about it than I do, but continue to review to let us know what you think. A story is nothing without its reviewers!**

To answer your question from your review, **fencingbabe7**, the Gods Courtney put into this story are actual Aztec Gods. She's done research on them on the internet. I do believe she'll be writing the next chapter and will answer the rest of your questions then.

This chapter is written in a different POV than the previous two and also in a different setting. I do believe we might have some POV changes coming along soon and, if the occasion arises, they will be separated by three stars: ***.

------------------------------------------------------------------  
------------------------------------------------------------------

**The Wrath of the Gods  
****Chapter Two: **The Curse's Revelation  
**Written by Akalei**

"To Commodore Norrington and the _James_!" said Lieutenant Gillette, raising his wine glass into the air. The crowd of people surrounding the long table draped in a red and white lace cloth repeated the phrase simultaneously before drinking to Commodore James Norrington.

The atmosphere was heavy with sophistication in the Port Royal Grand Hall as a room full of a hundred or so of Port Royal's aristocrats and military men raised their glasses to their mouths. Elizabeth Swann (or, more appropriately now, Elizabeth Turner), who was seated five seats from the Commodore himself, glanced sideways at Will Turner and snickered behind her goblet. Drinking to Norrington was something neither of them would have wanted to waste their time doing, but Elizabeth had been requested to attend the dinner party and convinced her father to let Will come along as well.

It had only been the day before that the _HMS James_, the Caribbean's latest ship marveling in speed, was completed in building. It was named after Commodore Norrington, honoring him in his glory as one of the greatest commodores Port Royal had ever seen. Elizabeth herself saw the ship gliding across the Caribbean waters and had to admit that the _James could even give the __Black Pearl quite a run for its money._

The room swelled with noise again as the posh guests returned to their polite chatter. Elizabeth took out her fan and swayed it back and fourth under her chin, examining her company in the midst of their conversations. As she had been feeling rather a lot lately, she considered herself trapped among the classy women and the men with powdered wigs. She was unable to confess it, of course, that she longed for adventure; preferably the type of adventure she had been involved in three years ago out on the Caribbean sea. But all the people she knew and loved, principally her father, had pushed her into a routinely existence she did not wish to be part of. Elizabeth yearned for the freedom that Jack Sparrow had talked about that night on the beach so long ago. She wanted freedom to do what she wanted, go where she pleased, and, looking down at her own stylish dress, wear what she desired. Quite recently, she had been required to be present at dinner parties, town meetings, balls, and any other sort of sorry excuse for a tedious night Port Royal could come up with. If her newly formed requirements weren't enough, many of her passions and pastimes were beginning to vanish from exclusion, too. Elizabeth was forbidden to travel down to the market without the company of a maid. She was unallowed to sail with the sailors out into the ocean as she had done countless times before. She had been banned by the Royal Navy and her father to visit the docks, for the reason that "odd characters were in attendance at the docks and, therefore, that was no place for a lady." _Rubbish,_ Elizabeth thought to herself. _The port is a perfectly safe location and they know it. I'm a grown woman with my own family. I can take care of myself. The one thing that could not be eliminated from her life, however, was the one thing she cared for most – Will._

They had only been wedded for a year and a half, but to Elizabeth, it seemed like a lifetime. Nothing in the world made her happier than the memory of the day when she and Will were married in front of all Port Royal. They wanted to make their undying love for each other known to each citizen throughout the whole town. They were no longer "Elizabeth and Will"… they were now "the Turners." _The Turners, Elizabeth thought while sighing. __The start of a family. A pleasant smile spread across her face._

"What are you smiling at?" Will asked from his seat beside her. Elizabeth's head snapped up to look into the adoring, caring face of her husband. Her smile only grew.

"Nothing. Just thinking," she answered.

Will was silent for a moment before speaking again. "You know what _I was thinking?" he asked, a mischievous grin washing over his face._

Elizabeth couldn't suppress another smile as she shook her head.

Her husband glanced at the luxurious, crystal chandelier hanging in the center of the room. "I was thinking how much this alleged party would enliven if that were to drop and shatter."

"Will!" Elizabeth scolded in a sharp breath, swiveling her head around to ensure no one had heard Will's secret wish. "As amusing as that would be –" she couldn't help but collapse into a fit of giggles before recomposing herself "– I hardly believe that's the proper thing to plague upon our dull revelry."

"It _would raise some spirits around here," Will muttered, nodding towards several stuffy women mingling with Norrington, who wore a look of flattery._

"That chandelier cost thousands of pounds, William Turner, and here you sit, pining for it to fall and destroy the party?" Elizabeth exclaimed in a low whisper, pretending to be outraged. "Not even to mention the irreparable damage that would be done –"

"I love it when you're angry," Will murmured into Elizabeth's ear. She suddenly stopped and glared at him with what was intended cruelty but Will merely grinned impishly. Vulnerable to her husband's charm, Elizabeth dropped her fierce tone and sniggered.

"Though _why_ I let you drag me to this tiresome celebration, I'll never know."

Elizabeth was thoroughly delighted that Will broke through her thoughts and disturbed her worries. She had promised herself many times that she would not concern her husband with her petty qualms as well. So, with much strength, Elizabeth pasted a strong grin on her face as Will helped her up to a dance. The tune was slow, as were all the others, and unable to stop herself, Elizabeth found her mind wandering back to the past again while she clasped her hands in Will's at the same time.

It had been three entire years since their escapade at sea. Elizabeth would never forget it, any of it. Some of it she wished she could relive over and over while other parts came back to haunt her in her wildest dreams. No one in Port Royal had seen hide or tail of the _Black Pearl crew, including Captain Jack Sparrow, in the three year time span, either. It was almost a ritual for Elizabeth to wonder where in the world the crazy pirate she and Will had both come to admire was now. Sometimes she even questioned his existence still and, on more than one occasion, she found herself asking her husband whether or not it had all been a dream. Whatever the answer to her many questions, Port Royal had been quiet for some time - perhaps too long, even._

"… music could put a dead man asleep, and the food's absolutely tasteless," Will was saying. Elizabeth was knocked back to reality soon enough to realize he was listing off the many problems of Norrington's celebration. In a desperate act to show Will she had not been ignoring him, Elizabeth countered, "I found it delicious."

"The food? It's horrid. The metal in my blacksmith's shop would taste better than the roast they served," he muttered. Elizabeth shook her head, not even daring to question her husband's sanity.

The music provided by Port Royal's well-respected orchestra ended to courteous applause only to be followed by another tune rather similar. With a sigh of squashed hope, Elizabeth put her arms around Will's neck to dance once again.

"Maybe we should take a walk," Will suggested. "You look flustered. Are you warm?"

_No, I don't want him to notice!_ Elizabeth thought anxiously. "I'm quite fine, thank you," she said with fake exuberance. Will furrowed his brow with obvious concern and was about to contradict Elizabeth's objection when the door to the Hall flew open.

Everyone swiveled to see a Royal Navy officer standing in the doorway. It was a windy night, Elizabeth noted, and the strong breeze blew in, scattering napkins and plates around the tables. A small tinkling above their heads caused her to look up and see the grand chandelier swaying from side to side. Many women clamped their hats to their heads as the officer spoke with apprehension.

"Sir!" he called, his voice ringing through the still hall. Norrington pushed his way to the front of the room to face the young solider. "She's gone!"

"Who's gone, Mr. Smith?"

"Your ship, sir! The _James_ has gone missing!"

A collective gasp pervaded the room. Norrington's facial muscles tightened at the knowledge of his beloved missing ship. "I'm sorry, Commodore, she wasn't under guard and –"

"And _why wasn't she under guard?" Norrington asked in a low yet effective voice._

"Because everyone was at your celebration, sir," squeaked the Royal officer, wincing against the strong wind at his back. Elizabeth glanced upwards once more to see the chandelier swinging dangerously about.

Low mutters burst out in groups around the room. Norrington moved into a heated discussion with several soldiers to his right while the tense man who had reported the news turned to shut the door. With the force of the wind pulling against the door, the door slammed shut with a deafening _BANG, followed by a soft tinkling._

"It's going to fall!" screamed a woman from the center of the room. Elizabeth whirled around to see people hurling towards the walls as the imposingly glorious chandelier detached from the ceiling and plummeted to the floor. It landed with a sickening crash, sending pieces of broken glass soaring across the room. Everyone shielded their faces with shrieks and Elizabeth could feel Will's arm protectively covering her head as he pushed her to the floor.

Shocked faces reappeared seconds later to find the once magnificent chandelier now in a shambles on top of the table. Elizabeth's father edged towards the chandelier, looking as if he had just lost an important family member.

Will's mouth was by her ear again and she heard him whisper, "I think now would be a good time for a walk." Before she could protest, Will had taken her arm and begun to drag her out of the Hall. They slipped out the doors and into the cool night air unnoticed to find that the wind had considerably calmed down.

"It _fell," Elizabeth said, as stunned as anyone. "How did you _know_?"_

Will shrugged, still looking a bit dazed himself. "Mere coincidence." He shuffled his feet around a bit before muttering, "I'm sorry about what I said."

Elizabeth put her arm around his shoulder lovingly. "It's not your fault, Will. It _is_ odd, but it isn't your fault. But what do you think happened to the _James?" she asked, quickly changing the subject._

"I don't know, but I can't understand how it disappeared so quickly," Will said, furrowing his brow again. "We all saw it in the port today. Who would have taken it?"

The answer to the question silently hung in the air between them, neither of them voicing it in words. It was awfully obvious who would have wanted the _James, since it was the fastest ship in the Caribbean with more deck space and guns than any other vessel._

"Well, it's evident, isn't it?"

"They haven't been to Port Royal in years, Elizabeth," Will argued. "Why would they have chosen to show up on this night of _all _nights?"

"The poor Commodore," Elizabeth said quietly. "They just built that ship and christened it with his name, and now it's gone missing. I think they've taken it a bit too far this time."

"No one has any proof as to where it's gone!" Will exclaimed somewhat louder than he had intended. "One of our own Royal Navy soldiers could have sailed off with it for all we know! You shouldn't assume things before you know the whole truth."

Elizabeth's shoulders slumped as she realized Will was right. She had no more evidence than anyone concerning the _James, and it was rather harsh to put those as innocent as the rest until proven guilty at fault._

The clouds in the sky parted to reveal a full, bright moon. It illuminated the land like someone had flipped the switch on a flashlight, allowing Elizabeth to see with a clearer perception her surroundings. Sighing, she began, "I don't kno –" but halted immediately upon seeing the image of her husband next to her.

"Oh, my God, _Will_!" she shrieked, retreating away from him. Will jumped and stared at her in confusion as she pointed at him with a quavering finger. Elucidated in the moonlight, Will moved his eyes down his body, reacting in almost the same manner as Elizabeth.

Will's body had vanished. Instead in Will's spot stood a familiarly gaunt, decayed body, clothed in filthy scraps of aged clothes. He had no feeling in his body at all and felt no wind against his face. Upon the impact of seeing his own bones staring back at him, Will shouted, as taken aback as Elizabeth.

"You – you're – _you look like Barbossa, Will_!" Elizabeth breathed, staring at her husband in pure terror. The color drained from her face to match the shade of Will's exposed bones and she was forced to cling to a nearby tree to keep herself from falling over in a dead faint.

Will finally found his voice and asked in a cracked voice, "What happened to me?"

Elizabeth shook her head wildly, still holding tight to the tree, as she watched Will slowly step into the shadows, regaining his original body. Curiously, Will stepped back into the moonlight and watched his shape transform before his very eyes. He continued this several times until Elizabeth's fearful cry rang through the night.

"_Stop it! Just stop, Will!"_

Will realized she was close to tears and ended his examination of his body to rush over to her. He reached out his arms but Elizabeth stepped back from his embrace.

"It isn't contagious," Will muttered dejectedly.

"You don't know that, Will!" Elizabeth cried. "You don't know anything about this! You don't even know when it started – Will, you're _cursed!"_

"That explains why I thought the dinner was awful."

Giving in, Elizabeth fell forward into Will's arms, sobbing. _This is awful_, she thought to herself. _I thought we were over with this. How could this happen? How?_

_But didn't you ask for adventure?_ countered a small voice in the back of her mind.

Elizabeth buried her face into Will's shoulder and ignored it. _This isn't adventure. My husband is half dead and half alive. He can't even feel my touch. He can't feel anything._

"Did you take it?" Elizabeth whispered while still hanging onto Will.

"Take what?"

"Did you take a coin?" she asked.

Will was silent for a moment before answering truthfully, "No. I didn't."

Elizabeth pulled back and watched Will as he stepped into the moonlight again. "Then how did this happen? We've had no contact with anything of this sort in three years."

Will's fleshless face suddenly glazed over but Elizabeth did not notice. She was still muttering to herself when Will moved back into the shadows, shaking her slightly.

"– can't tell anyone, of course –"

"Elizabeth."

Elizabeth hushed herself and looked up into the eyes of her husband. She noticed it now. Even though Will appeared as himself, he wasn't. The unique glistening he always had in his eyes whenever he was looking at her wasn't there anymore. It had vanished, along with his soul.

"Elizabeth, do you know how to commandeer a ship?"

The question stunned Elizabeth. _Where did that from? she silently asked herself. Slowly with much confusion, she said, "What? What has that got to do with anything, Will?"_

"You're going to need to know how to commandeer a ship by tomorrow."

"What are you _talking _about?"

"Tomorrow we're leaving Port Royal to find some old friends, preferably the ones who took off with the _James."_


	4. Anamaria's Ship and Mr Dorian Gray

**Disclaimer: Nobody is mine. Actually, Jack is. But that's it. Jack is all mine. Mine, mine, mine. Unfortunately, I'm being sarcastic. Well, unfortunately for the thirteen-year-old girl in me, but fortunately for my financial status. **

I hate money.

**Author's Notes: Wow, two chapters in two days. Who would've thought, especially since school started today. Sigh. School. How I wish it be winter break all year 'round. Stupid school…**

Ahem. Anyway! I apologize to all of the Jack fans who love it when "love" is spelled "luv" when Jack says it, but _Akalei_ here is opposed the incorrect spelling of "love," so therefore, she has made me spell it normally. Blast…*Mutters incoherently* It hurt me a lot, spelling love properly… hurt me a bloody lot…

As you can see from the chapter title, we will be meeting a character named Dorian Gray. He is not a creation from my whacked-out brain (unfortunately), but he's from The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen and practically the only good thing in that movie, so I decided to put him in here. It's really too bad that damned vampire lady killed him….he was so cool. *Heart-wrenching sigh* I hope he's in character…

And those of you from the NMS Owls Focus LA Class, look for a very special vocab word which one of our classmates uses often…

------------------------------------------------------------------  
------------------------------------------------------------------

**The Wrath of the Gods**

**Chapter Four: **Anamaria's Ship and Mr. Dorian Gray

**Written by Courtney**

_Anamaria is really starting to annoy me._

Jack Sparrow was laying face-down on his stomach in his bed, trying to shut out his first mate Anamaria's shouts from outside his cabin door. It was quite hard, really. Her shouts were very loud, and her banging on the door was nearly as piercing. The fact that Mr. Sparrow had consumed more rum that what he should have last night wasn't helping, either. Inside his head, Jack was saying what Anamaria did to his door when she hit it, such as _bang, rattle, and _trying-to-knock-me-bloody-door-down. _But it was only until Anamaria had said the following that Jack actually started to listen to her._

"JACK SPARROW –" _bang_ "- GET YER LAZY ARSE OUT OF BED THIS INSTANT!" _Bang, bang, bang._ _Bonk. Ooh, that must have been a kick. I bet that hurt. "_IF YE DON'T, I _SWEAR I'LL _RUIN_ THIS FLAMING SHIP!"_

Jack's eyes widened in horror and he pushed himself up off of his bed quickly, which made him dizzy. He paused and closed his kohl-rimmed eyes tightly until the dizziness went away. He opened them again and bounded over clumsily to his beautiful door, but paused before he opened it. _Next time I go out for a drink, he thought groggily, __I really must remind myself not __to have thirteen mugs of rum. Especially before having a confrontation with Anamaria. She's prob'ly going to slap me.  He opened the door. She slapped him._

_Ouch._

Regaining his composure after several moments of staring at the floor, Jack muttered with narrowed eyes at the extremely angry woman, "Anamaria, love. Enlighten me. _Why was it I deserved that?"_

Anamaria glowered at him. "Two reas'ns," she spat. "One, I been standin' here for nearly a half-bloody-hour, tryin' t' get _you_ outta yer bloody bed, when it's ye who should be wakin' me up!"

"An' why's that?" Jack asked with an uncomfortable look on his face. _She doesn't look very friendly when she's angry._

 "BECUZ YER THE BLOODY CAP'N OF THIS BLOODY SHIP!" Anamaria roared, and Jack cringed. "IT'S YER BLOODY DUTY T' MAKE SURE THA' EV'RYBODY ELSE IS DOIN' _THEIR_ DUTY!"

"I'm aware of that, love," Jack said blithely, "Now what's your second reason for nearly tearin' me door down?"

Anamaria exhaled vehemently and said, much quieter than before and with authority, "Ye still owe me a ship."

Jack closed his eyes and sighed slowly. He should've known that's what she was going to say. She'd been bugging him about a ship for the past three days. Apparently, she had forgotten about it for three years, and decided to remember about it whenever she felt like it. _Crazy woman._ He sighed again, this time more acquiescent, and opened his dark eyes to look into Anamaria's even darker ones. "All right, you want a ship, eh?" he asked, completely aware that his question was quite stupid, waving his arms around inventively.

Anamaria nodded slowly, looking at Jack as if he'd gone mad. _Too late for that, Jack thought impishly. His sanity had left a long time ago, and he found he was saner without it. Which, to anybody else but himself, made no sense whatsoever._

Jack nodded quickly and started push Anamaria away from his door and out onto the crowded deck of the _Pearl._ She protested, but Jack silenced her by saying with a bizarrely high voice, "Fine. We'll get you a ship, then!" He turned in the direction of the helm and shouted to the helmsman, a Welshman named Madog, or 'Mad Dog,' Rhys, "Mr. Rhys! Set a course for Port Royal!"

"Aye, aye, Cap'n!" Rhys barked back, and he began turning the helm without difficulty. "If we drop full canvas, we should be there aft nigh'fall!"

Jack gave the order to drop canvas and his men yelled, "Aye, Cap'n, aye!" He looked around for a moment, watching his crew get to work, and then his eyes shifted back to Anamaria, and he realized he was still holding her shoulder. He let go rapidly at her malicious glare and muttered, "Apologies. Forgot you were there."

Anamaria sniggered, her heated appearance gone, and replied gleefully, "'Pology accepted, cap'n, since yer getting' me a ship." Jack grinned cockily. "What ship were ya plannin' on gettin', anyway?"

"Well," Jack called over his shoulder as he began walking across the deck to the side of the ship, "I heard that there's been a ship named after Commodore Norrington, entitled the _HMS_ _James. I figure that'll be a mighty fine ship to commandeer." He grinned crazily out at the horizon._

"Cap'n," Anamaria whispered worriedly and she shook her head, "yer daft to think ye can steal a brand new ship right in fronna th' Commodore's eyes. He'll have that ship guarded by ev'ry officer he's got!"

Jack looked at her slyly. "My dear Anamaria. We are not going to commandeer it in front of his eyes, oh no. We're going to commandeer it right out from under his nose."

Anamaria stared at him. "Wha's th' diff'rence?"

He said nothing out loud, but in his mind, he said, _A whole lot, my dear Anamaria. A whole bloody lot._

------------------------------------------------------------------  
------------------------------------------------------------------

They reached Port Royal a little earlier than Mad Dog supposed they would. The wind had been with them, and it had pushed them along as fast as it could. Jack ordered the _Pearl_ to be anchored in a cove not far from the city, but far away enough to conceal his precious ship. He informed the crew that only he, Anamaria, Cotton and Gibbs would be going to shore, and no one else. The crew had started to complain with that, but he told them that they would be bound for Tortuga right after this escapade, so they could have their fun then. After all, Anamaria wasn't going to find a very good crew in Port Royal. What with Norrington and all.

Jack, Anamaria, Cotton and Gibbs took a rowboat to the harbor. It was fairly busy for this time of day; it was a few minutes before the sun would set and the city of Port Royal would plunge into darkness. There was one merchant, ordering the men unloading goods from his ships, but that was all. No soldiers whatsoever. As soon as night fell, the shouts of the merchant and his sailors faded away, and Jack could only hear the sound of the waves lapping up against the docks and the harsh breathing of Gibbs. "Quit breathing so vociferously, Gibbs," Jack whispered casually. "The citizens can most likely hear it from their humble abodes." Jack was fully aware that Gibbs probably didn't know what _vociferously meant, but he didn't care. Jack liked big words._

"Sorry, Cap'n," muttered Gibss. "Can't 'elp it, me." 

The rest of the shipmates chuckled quietly, and Jack shushed them, too. They waited a few more minutes in silence, listening to the sounds of the far off taverns, when Gibbs groaned. "Oh, what I wouldn' do fer a nice cuppa grog righ' abou' now," he whined.

Jack rolled his eyes, reminding himself of his old friend Elizabeth Swann. "Please be quiet, Gibbs!" Jack whispered anxiously.

"Wha' for?" asked Anamaria indignantly. "There's no one on th' dock, so wha's all this waitin' for?"

Jack sucked in his breath and spun around as fast as he could at the front of the small boat to face her stubborn self. "Jus' _trust me,"_ he said in a strained voice. "Jus' be patient till I say to go to the _James. Savvy?"_

His crewmates mumbled that they savvied, and Jack saw Cotton give him a small nod. Cotton had left his parrot on board so it wouldn't attract any unwanted attention. _Nice man,_ thought Jack, and he grinned at the two pirates sitting grudgingly behind him. "And now, we wait…"

------------------------------------------------------------------  
------------------------------------------------------------------

They lingered for nearly an hour before Jack mumbled to Anamaria, "All right, let's get you a ship!" The four pirates hopped stealthily onto the dock, trying not to make a thud. They made their way as silently as they could to the dock that Jack remembered the _Interceptor_ being at. He smirked as he thought of those two stupid guards who had fought over whether or not the _Black Pearl_ was real. _Stupid blighters, the both of them._ Jack thought, and his grin widened. Then he realized something. There were no guards protecting the ship. "No guards," he said giddily, his eyes lighting up with what some would call madness. "No guards whatsoever."

Gibbs and Anamaria looked around to see if what he said was true, and they began to laugh when they saw that is was. "No guards!" cackled Gibbs. "Norrington must've gotten real daft in th' 'ead if he thinks 'e can leave this ship unguarded!"

"An' at'is folly, now it be mine," Anamaria whispered greedily, and she jumped onto the ship. Jack said nothing as she began examined every foot of it. It was a beautiful ship, almost as beautiful as his _Pearl,_ but newer. And bigger. It had more deck space than his ship, and more guns, too. The wood was polished, and if the moon had not been hiding behind the clouds, it would have shined. Gibbs and Cotton jumped onto the ship and few minutes after Anamaria, but Jack stayed on the dock and decided to just touch the side of the ship for the time being. It was smooth, so new that there were no splinters sticking out rebelliously from the wood.

While admiring his former first mate's new ship, Jack heard the wood creak behind him. He whirled around and unsheathed his sword in one quick movement. There, standing behind him, was a very handsome man leaning against a pole holding up the upper dock. His dark hair flowed freely around his face, and it ended near his chin. In the dark of the night, Jack couldn't decipher the color of the man's eyes, but his face was pale. He had a small moustache and a small beard, and a smile played about his lips. "I think I'm right to assume you are a pirate, am I not?" he drawled smoothly

"It really depends on who you're talking to," Jack answered, waving his hands. 

"Hmm," said the man, "well, I consider you a pirate, and in this town, pirates are hanged for even coming ashore, and the men who find them are justly rewarded." The man smiled slyly, and fingered the cane he was holding. _How did I not notice that? Jack thought vaguely. It was black and straight, and the top had two silver bands around it, while the tip had one._

"And I suppose you want to turn me an' me comrades in so you can have a bit of gold in your pocket, is that right?" Jack asked casually.

The man began walking toward him. "Actually, quite the opposite, in fact," he said. "I have no love for the military forces of Port Royal, or for England. Especially for England. The whole country is stupid. For a few years now, I've wondered what it would be like to be a pirate and to defy the laws of England, and since tonight is the party for Commodore Norrington, I assumed that there would be no one to protect the _James_ from brigands. I guess I assumed right." He stopped a few feet in front of Jack, and glimpsed quickly at the pirates aboard the ship.

"That you did," Jack said, "but I'm not entirely sure I understand why you're telling me this."

The man rolled his eyes. "Isn't it obvious?" he sighed exasperatedly. "I wish to be a pirate."

Jack stared at the man with narrowed eyes. He seemed very casual about the whole thing, not looking very excited about meeting a pirate and talking about becoming one, like the boys Jack usually met acted. Of course, this wasn't a boy; he looked as if he was at least in his late twenties, yet now that he was closer, Jack could see that his brown eyes looked older than the rest of him, which was odd and made Jack wonder. "What's your name?" Jack asked seriously. Silently he hoped that the man's answer wouldn't include the last name of Turner. Jack really didn't want to deal with another one of _those stubborn mules._

"Dorian. Gray," the man said nonchalantly. "Why?"

"No reason, Mr. Dorian Gray," Jack answered optimistically, waving his hands about. Dorian stared at them with raised eyebrows. "Just wondering."

"Well, considering I gave you my name, I would like to hear yours."

Jack grinned wildly and gave Dorian one of his small oriental bows. "Captain Jack Sparrow. Me ship's the _Black Pearl._ Ever heard of it?"

Dorian chuckled once quietly and muttered, "Who hasn't heard of the infamous _Black Pearl, especially around here?"_

Nodding, Jack muttered smugly, "True, very true indeed."

Dorian gave a small smile to no one in particular and looked aboard the _James. "You spoke of comrades earlier. What are their names?"_

Jack turned his head toward the _James_ along with Dorian. "Joshamee Gibbs, second mate. Mr. Cotton, quartermaster. And Anamaria, me first mate. Except she won't be me first mate anymore, since the _James is for her."_

"Oh, really?" said Dorian, raising his eyebrow in surprise, still looking at the_ James. "It's amusing how you now need a first mate, and I know the location of some very famous treasure." Jack's head snapped back at Dorian, who was smirking. Dorian was looking straight into Jack's eyes. "Name me first mate, and I'll tell you the location of the treasure."_

Jack considered it for a moment. _Normally I would make Gibbs first mate, _he thought, _but this…this is an enticing offer. _

_You hardly know this man!  He could be exactly like Barbossa, _said the second, more sensible voice in his head.

_Oh shut up. Why shouldn't I make him first mate? He seems nice enough. _The second voice didn't respond, so Jack said airily, "Well, why not? It'll make me richer, and you'll be getting what you want. Welcome to the _Black Pearl." Jack paused. "Or, the __James, for the moment."_

Dorian smirked even more and climbed onto the _James_, and Jack followed him. Anamaria looked up at Dorian and Jack from one of the ropes she was knotting and frowned. "Who be he?" she demanded, and at the sound of her troubled voice, Gibbs and Cotton looked down from one of the sails they were unfurling.

Jack grinned and introduced them. "Gibbs, Cotton, Anamaria, this is Mr. Dorian Gray. Apparently, he knows the location to some renowned treasure, so he's now replacing Anamaria's position and becoming me first mate." 

Gibbs, Cotton and Anamaria's gazes shifted from Jack to Dorian, and they stared and looked him over. "Hello," Dorian said plainly.  Gibbs was the first one to stop looking at Dorian, and he climbed down the rigging and walked over to talk to Jack, who spoke before Gibbs could say anything.

"Yes, I know, Gibbs, you are wond'ring why I made this man my first mate instead of you," Jack began to clarify in tones so only Gibbs could hear. "After all, I don't even know him! The reason is because I want _you to be Anamaria's first mate instead of mine. To look out for her like, and make sure she doesn't do anything…stupid. Which is entirely possible. For her."_

Gibbs chortled. "That it is, Cap'n. Acshully, I was jus' goin' t' ask ye that meself. I was thinkin' abou' it, and I figgered I be much more 'elp t' her than t' ye."  
          "Great minds think alike, Gibbs," said Jack with a grin, "that's all I can say to that." Gibbs laughed loudly, slapped Jack on the back hard (but for some odd reason, Jack barely felt it), and went back to rigging to drop the sails. Jack fixed his gaze onto Dorian, who was standing awkwardly a few feet away, watching the three other pirates work. Jack walked over to him and said, "Now, Dorian. Do you have any experience with ships?"

Dorian took a deep breath and said, "Some. It's been an extremely long time since I've sailed a ship."

Jack stared at him. _A long time? He doesn't look a day over 25, and yet he's talking about it being an _extemely_ long time since he's been on a ship. Maybe he sailed as a child with his father. Oh well. Each to his own. Jack shook his head as if to get rid of these irritating thoughts, and nodded over to Anamaria. "Ask Anamaria to get you started. She'll show you the basics, an' when we get back to the _Pearl,_ I'll help you some more."_

Dorian nodded a thank you and headed over to Anamaria, who was unknotting some tangled ropes. Dorian knelt down next to her and Jack barely heard him ask Anamaria for help. He saw Anamaria smile and nod at him, and she began showing him how to tie a basic knot. Jack got bored of them after awhile, and he decided to watch the sea. He stared at the rolling waves for quite sometime, and didn't notice when Anamaria ordered for them to set sail to the _Pearl. Jack turned around and looked at his companions. It looked as if they had forgotten about him, which was a first. __Who could forget Captain Jack Sparrow? Jack thought arrogantly. _

Suddenly the ship's deck got brighter. Jack looked up into the sky, and saw a full moon up in the sky, lightening both the ship and the ocean with her soft glow. _Bella Luna, the Italians called her. Beautiful Moon. And she was, indeed, beautiful, even with the grayish pockmarks dotting her skin. She was truly a sight to behold. Jack turned away from the small crew and put his hands on the ship's side, still looking at the moon. After a moment, he looked down at his hands, as if he couldn't bear to look at her anymore, and his heart nearly stopped at what he saw._

_Bones. Those are bones. Not fingers. Bones._

Jack raised his shaking hands of the deck, horrified. He turned them over and saw the same thing as what was on top; skin-less, muscle-less bone, tattered clothes on his arm, no feeling anywhere on his body. He remembered how those fingers had looked three years ago, and he remembered how he had lifted the curse off of him with the help of Will Turner. "_How could this have happened?" Jack whispered incredulously. Then he remembered: he had company aboard this ship. _

Jack whirled around, and sighed thankfully when he saw that none of his companions had perceived his transformation into a skeleton. He sighed in relief, then ran into the shadow by the Captain's cabin. "Anamaria, love!" Jack called shakily to his female friend.

"Aye?" she shouted back from the bow of the ship, not noticing Jack's shaky demeanor.

"D'you mind if I explore your cabin?"

"Not at all, Cap'n!" 

"Good," Jack muttered to himself, and he was about to disappear into the cabin where he could think, when he heard an unmistakable voice shriek from the city, "Oh, my God, _Will_!" Jack froze, his hand on the door handle, and he shut his eyes painfully. There was no doubt who's voice that belonged to, or who it was talking about. 

Jack guessed by Elizabeth Swann's tone of voice and the fear he heard in it that Will Turner was cursed, too.


End file.
